Betrayal
by LathielStormblade
Summary: Sparrow Took has a secret, one she hasn't told anyone, not even her best friend Frodo Baggins. But when she gets caught up in all the business about the One Ring to rule them all, it may not stay a secret... OC!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hellllooooo everybody! Now most of you who've read this already know Sparrow's secret, so I decided it was time to listen to some of your criticism and shape up! Seriously, I didn't realize how bad some of those chapters were until I went back and read them a few days ago; you all were so nice to read such literary garbage and not flame me for it! Anyways, here is the new and improved Betrayal:**

**^^^^^^BEGIN^^^^^^**

It was a cool night; stars danced high in the sky above Gandalf the Grey's sparkling fireworks, Hobbits danced merrily and drank more than they probably should have. But it was okay for such a momentous occasion as this: Bilbo Baggins' eleventy-first, 111, birthday. Everyone enjoyed themselves and laughed until they could barely stand. Everyone, that is, except a certain Frodo Baggins.

Now, don't get me wrong, Frodo was enjoying himself, just not as much as he should be. For one, parties were never really his thing; he slightly wished he could be back at Bag End in his nice soft bed, reading about brave knights, fierce dragons, and - most importantly -_ Elves_. As I said, though, he was still having a grand time, but he felt it would be better if he could only find his close friend who had been sick in bed for the past two months.

Frodo jumped when a hand fell on his shoulder, pulling him out of his thoughts. "Mr. Frodo," came the voice of Samwise Gamgee, a sturdily build Hobbit lad whose hands and mop of dirty blonde hair always seemed to be dirty because of all the time he spent gardening. "Is something wrong?"

"All is well, Sam." he replied, taking a swig of sweet ale from the mug Samwise was offering him. "It's just I haven't..." Frodo trailed off.

Sam nodded knowingly. "You shouldn't worry, Mr. Frodo; _she'll come_. The half of the Shire that wasn't invited wouldn't miss this, why would she?"

Frodo sighed. "Of course, you're right. It's been so long since we last saw her."

"Not her fault she came down with a terrible fever."

Frodo chuckled. "Do you remember how she reacted when we told her she needed to stay in bed?"

The gardener let out a little laugh, too. "Of course! If she could've, she would have killed me with that glare of hers."

The dark-haired Hobbit turned to his servant suddenly, a thought striking him like lightening. "Sam, have you seen Pippin?"

"Last I saw him he was having a drink with Mr. Merry. Why?"

Frodo nodded. Of course Peregrin Took was with his best friend, Meriadoc Brandybuck; the two were inseparable. "Pip would know where she is!"

Sam was about to reply, then caught something out of the corner of his eye. "Rosie Cotton," he whispered dreamily, staring at the lovely golden-haired lass.

"Go ask her to dance." Frodo said with a little nudge, but Sam shook his head and looked into his empty mug. "I think I'll just go get myself another ale..." Sam said it as if he were trying to convince himself rather than Frodo that he wasn't going to. Frodo caught his arm as the gardener stood. "I'm not letting you do something you'll regret." Frodo explained, pushing Sam towards the lass. Rosie caught Sam's hand, said a few words to him, then the two were just another couple among all the dancing Halflings.

Frodo laughed again and set out to find Pippin. It took a good fifteen minutes, but he eventually found both Merry and Pippin. Both were covered in soot and washing dishes grudgingly. "Oi," Frodo called, "Pip, is your sister here?"

Pip thought for a moment then said, "Last I saw her, she was dancing with Fatty. But you know how lads get when she's around,"

Frodo let out a little scoff. His friend was exceedingly beautiful and, while he could respect that, he never really found her romantically appealing. Other men, though...

Pippin continued: "And now that she's well, it seems every lad in Hobbiton-"

"Every lad in all the Shire, more like." Merry interrupted.

Pip agreed with a nod, but otherwise ignored him. "They've all seemed to realize life is short. Now they're all trying to win her affection. Just imagine next year when she comes of age, think of all the broken-hearted Hobbits she'll leave in her wake."

"They shouldn't have gone chasing a lass that's too good for them." Merry said and took a swig of his drink.

"Hear, hear."

Frodo groaned. As if tracking her down wasn't hard enough. Now he had to get through a line of moony hobbits. Still, he thanked them and set off to find the only person he seemed incapable of finding. It wasn't long before he came to one of the makeshift pavilions set up for the party. It was pretty far on the outskirts of the party, very few Hobbits came this far from the merriment, making it an ideal place for someone to hide. And - of course, since it was a hiding spot - there sat the lass much sought after: Sparrow Took.

Sparrow was somewhat of an oddity in the Shire; she was tall and lanky like Frodo, whom she was an inch shorter than - another thing he never let her live down, just like his being older. The only thing on her fair skin was a spattering of brown freckles splayed across her nose and cheekbones and deep forest green eyes which always had a joyful light in them. A thing that made her stand out more than her height and her almost unearthly beauty was the mane of curling, fiery red that hung down to the base of her shoulder blades.

Now I'm sure you are all wondering about the two's relationship, so I will give you a bit of history:

Sparrow and Frodo had been best friends since the latter had moved to Hobbiton. The two had taken to having tea at Bag End, then they would go explore the woodlands around Hobbiton, much to Mrs. Tooks displeasure. Sparrow's father was Thain of the Shire and Eglantine thought that exploring - a most unexpected pass-time for any Hobbit, even Tooks, who were often associated with adventures - was an unacceptable way for a child of the Thain to act. But the only reason they ever got in trouble for was coming home past curfew.

Sometimes, though, they would play a game they made up, called Tig, in the marketplace, running around and giggling as they yelled over their shoulders, "Catch me if you can!" Often knocking over carts, produce, and even the occasional other Hobbit.

All in all, they had been pretty mischievous young Hobbits. In fact, one of their favorite memories together was one of their worst scoldings. They had just finished one of their most exciting games of Tig and it was not long before Mrs. Took found out about the havoc they had caused. And so, they found themselves being dragged by their ears to Bag End. The whole while Mrs. Took was muttering things like, "I though you two were raised better better," and "Honestly, do you two know what a muck you caused in the marketplace?" And so on.

Once at Bag End, the two were sat down as Eglantine and Bilbo spoke in hushed voices. After a quarter of an hour of sitting in silence, the Took and Baggins still discussing a punishment, Frodo whispered, "We should do this again, it was fun."

Sparrow had to stifle a disbelieving scoff. "Do you realize how much trouble we'll get in?!" she made it sound like she was complaining, but Frodo knew Sparrow better than that: even the thought of causing trouble exhilarated her. "Mum and Da already think you're a bad influence on me. If Mum finds us again, she might not let me spend my afternoons with you. They don't seem to realize most our schemes are my ideas." she added in a hushed tone just to be safe.

"We could go out to the forest?" The lad suggested and Sparrow gasped, practically bouncing out of her seat as a thought came to her: "We could bring Sam!"

Frodo furrowed his brow to show his confusion. "Why would we do that? He might get in trouble because of us, and then, he being the kind lad he is, would take the entire blame. We would be free and he would be grounded. We couldn't do that to him!"

"That's exactly why we're taking him!"

Frodo's frown deepened. "So we can be horrible people?" he asked slowly.

Sparrow shook her head in frustration. "No, so he keeps us out of trouble!" she explained rather loudly, though neither Eglantine or Bilbo noticed.

"Oh!" Frodo exclaimed. "That's perfect! Sam won't let us do anything wrong, we won't get in trouble, and your mother will think better of me." he finished with a grin. Sparrow nodded to show that was what she had been thinking all along. They spit on their palms and shook hands to seal the deal, then Mrs. Took and Bilbo came into the room. That day they got the worst scoldings and punishment they would ever get, but to this day they agree it was completely worth it.

The next day, the trio did go off into the woods; but Frodo still got in trouble, as he came home soaking wet. But that is a story for another day, and it is high time we finished this one:

"Sparrow!" Frodo called, rushing to her and embracing her tightly. He heard Sparrow chuckle in his ear. "Now, now," she whispered jestingly. "You're going to make the other lads jealous."

Frodo pulled back, a hand still resting on the redhead's shoulder. "Oh come off it. I haven't seen you in ages, am I not allowed to be glad that you're well?"

This time Sparrow let out a loud, hearty laugh as she rolled her eyes. "Honestly, by the looks you're giving me, you'd think I died and came back to life!"

The lad mimicked her eye movement. He tapped her shoulder lightly with the tips of his fingers and stated tauntingly, "Tig." Then sprinted off.

Sparrow threw her hands up in exasperation, calling after him, "You haven't seen me for months, and_ this_ is the first thing you do?!" She scoffed, chuckled as she thought about how glad she was that she wasn't ill any more, and chased after him.

Frodo ran swiftly to where Pippin and Merry were still washing dishes, Gandalf sitting next to them smoking his pipe. Frodo dived under a clothed table as he yelled to them, "I'm not here!"

Of course, when Sparrow came looking for the dark-haired lad and Merry and Pippin said in unison to inquiry of where he was, "He's not here," she knew immediately where he was. So Frodo thought it fitting to make a spectacular entrance: he jumped out from under the white tablecloth and tackled Sparrow, who let out a squeal of surprise.

"You - bloody - git!" Sparrow yelled as she tried to push Frodo off her. He was most adamant about staying where he was. Finally, when Sparrow gave up, he jumped off her, took her hand and helped her stand. Sparrow wiped grassy dirt off her green and yellow dress, took one long look at the lad, then asked, "You're drunk, aren't you?"

Frodo gave her a lopsided, obviously intoxicated grin. "_Noooo_," he said, dragging out the single syllable, then continued indecisively with a shrug to match: "Maybe just a little bit."

Sparrow shook her head and scoffed, but before she could comment Frodo took her hand in his and put his other one on her waist and the two started to twirl to the music. "So how was bed?" Frodo asked, his quirky grin still on. Sparrow had to note he was quite a good dancer.

"Oh, well, it was bed. Did you know you could actually get a rash from lying in bed too long?"

"Don't tell Uncle that, he'll try to use that against me." Frodo joked, spinning the redhead around with one hand. Something caught Sparrow's eye and she almost stopped dead as she turned: three giggling brown-haired lasses were staring pointedly at Frodo, one of them in a rather uncouth way.

"I wish they wouldn't gawk like that." she growled as the lad put his hand back on her hip.

"Forget them, Sparr." Frodo dismissed it so easily, but Sparrow knew none of those lasses cared about his character: they all just wanted him for his looks. It wasn't like they knew Frodo - though, not many did; ever since his parents' death he'd become something of a recluse. Not many knew more about him than his name and that he was a very fine-looking young man.

Frodo snapped in front of the redhead's noise. Inside she jumped, but she knew better than to physically show surprise. "Sparrow, are you listening to me?"

"Yes, yes, of course, Frodo." she lied. "What were you saying?"

Frodo sighed and repeat: "Farmer Maggot's mushrooms should be in season by now-"

"No, no, no," Sparrow interrupted. "I'm trying to get Pip not to steal from Maggot, I can't be a hypocrite and do it myself!"

"But you know how good his mushrooms are..." The desperation was obvious in his voice. He wanted the mushrooms, but he needed Sparrow because she knew how to plan and make a clean get-away.

Sparrow stopped and crossed her arms. "I said 'no', Frodo, and that's final."

"Spoil sport," he said with a smirk.

"Idjit." she shot back, a hint of a smile upon her features.

Frodo rolled his eyes and the two continued to dance in silence, mad grins playing upon their faces. It felt amazing just to see each other again. All the trouble they could get into, the games of Tig, the quiet afternoons just lying in the forest staring at clouds and imagining shapes... the possibilities were endless.

After a couple of minutes, a chant begging for Bilbo's speech came from the crowd. Sparrow and Frodo sat at one of the many table set up for the party, both holding a warm ale, as Bilbo climbed upon a barrel at the front of the throng.

"My dear Bagginses and Boffins, Tooks and Brandybucks, Grubs, Chubs, Hornblowers, Bolgers, Bracegirdles, and Proudfoots!" Bilbo projected across the group; each clan cheering as their names' were said, except for one old Proudfoot who yelled, "Proudfeet!" Bilbo waved it off with a dismissive hand, the crowd laughed. Bilbo continued: "Today is my eleventy-first birthday!" A few young Hobbits yelled out "Happy birthday!"

"Alas, eleventy-one years is far too short a time to live among such excellent and admirable Hobbits." Another round of cheers went up as the old Halfling said this. "I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like half of you half as well as you deserve."

To this there was silence. The lads and lasses looked at each other blank-faced, trying to figure out if they'd just been insulted. In the back, Frodo and Sparrow snorted in unison. "Old Bilbo sure has a way with words," the redhead murmured jokingly to the lad. Bilbo's face suddenly went pale as he - unbeknownst to the others - pulled a Ring out of his pocket and fidgeted with it behind his back. "I, uh, I h-have things to do." he stuttered, then whispered to himself, "I have put this off for far too long." Frodo's smile faded slightly at this. What could his uncle be talking about? Put off _what_?

Bilbo seemed to remember he was at the front of a confused group of Hobbits, who were whispering among themselves by now, and said, "I regret to announce - this is the end. I am going now. I bid you all a very fond farewell." He looked directly at Frodo. "Goodbye." Bilbo slipped this ring on his middle finger, vanishing instantly; a loud sound of _Ooh!_s and _Oh!_s went up from the party-goers.

Frodo, on the other hand, jumped to his feet. Much to his surprise, Sparrow caught his wrist. He pulled, but her grip was vise-like. "_Stop_." she commanded, her voice suddenly very serious.

"But, Bilbo-!" Frodo moaned. Then he turned to the redhead to see an expression on her face that was very new to him: pure, unchecked terror.

"Just. Sit. Down." she ordered sharply, her voice quivering a bit this time. Her freckles stood out strikingly bright against her nearly white skin.

"Sparrow, are you-" he began and her grip on his wrist tightened. Frodo imagined he could hear his bones creaking against one another as her nails bit into his flesh. "Shut up!" Sparrow snapped. Frodo was taken back by this. Sparrow rarely raised her voice unless she was kidding around. Now, though, she was deadly serious.

And so, he sat down in silence until he realized how badly Sparrow was starting to hurt his wrist. He was a little worried that she might break his hand; he didn't doubt she could. "Sparrow," the lad began again tenderly, this time she didn't cut him off. "It's okay. This is just one of Bilbo's jests. He's not gone." Frodo thought it sounded as if her were trying to convince himself of that rather than Sparrow.

The redhead let go of Frodo and shook her head. "Th-that's not what I'm afraid of..." Her voice cracked, unshed tears magnified her eyes slightly. Frodo wrapped her tightly in a hug. "It'll be alright." he whispered.

* * *

Frodo - this being a party for him, too; his Coming of Age party - felt it his duty to calm the rabble of uncertain and slightly frightened Hobbits. This task took about an hour to complete and, while Sparrow trailed along beside him, she did little to help - instead staying inside her own thoughts and muttering to herself as she clutched the jacket Frodo had placed around her shoulders tightly.

Between his encounters with others, attempting to convince them this was all just a childish prank, Frodo could hear the redhead whisper, "Not now. _Please_, Manwe, let this be anything else." or "What am I going to do? I-I can't, I just can't..."

Frodo never knew Sparrow to be dramatic, so whatever she was talking about must have been pretty important. She and Bilbo had been rather good friends and he was always there to help her out of a tight spot; maybe she was in such a position now? It wasn't his business, though, so he didn't ask.

A few minutes later, Peregrin Took came to him. Sparrow had much recovered from the initial shock. Pippin thanked Frodo for the invitation to the party. Frodo in turn asked if Pip would mind him walked home with them to make sure Sparrow would be okay.

It wasn't a long while before the three were at the Took smial. Pippin once again thanked and went inside. "Sparrow," Frodo said; "Are you going to be alright?"

Sparrow managed a little laugh. "Of course. Why wouldn't I be?" If she had said this to any one else, they would have believed her. But Frodo knew her better. All the little signs told him she wasn't okay: her shoulders weren't squared fully, her arms hung stiffly by her sides, and her knees were locked tightly. Sparrow saw his disbelief and rolled her eyes. "I'll be fine. It was just a bit of a shock to us all."

Frodo nodded. Those little signals still stood out too brightly. "It's late. I'm going to bed now." Sparrow said firmly, drawing the lad out of his concerned thoughts.

"Yes, yes, right." Frodo shook his head. This was Sparrow Took they were talking about. If she simply _looked_ at a dragon, the beast would walk away with its tail between its legs. She would be alright.

Frodo placed a brotherly peck on her cheek. "Rest well," Sparrow gave a little nod of acknowledgement and went inside.

Frodo sighed and began the walk to Bag End. He wouldn't admit it - not even to himself - but he secretly wished he would find Bilbo there, making a pot of tea and smiling gaily. _"I got you, didn't I?"_ he would ask with an even bigger grin.

Before he knew it, Frodo was back at the large Hobbit hole. With a breath of anticipation, he put his hand on the large golden knob in the center of the green turn, another inhalation to calm his anxiety, and he opened the door. Directly on the ground in front of him lay Bilbo's golden ring. The lad frowned. Bilbo loved that ring, why would he leave it? Frodo looked up. Gandalf sat smoking his pipe, lost in thought, by the hearth fire. A sickening thought struck the Hobbit. "He's gone, hasn't he? He talked so long about leaving. I didn't think he would actually do it..."

The wizard's head jerked up and he plastered a smile on his face. "He left you his ring." Gandalf pulled out an envelope from his robes. He gestured for Frodo to put the ring inside and the lad did. Gandalf sealed it with red wax and handed back to the Halfling. "Bilbo has gone to stay with the Elves. He's left you Bag End and all his possessions. The ring is yours now. Keep it somewhere out of sight." Gandalf added. He stood and gathered his hat and staff.

"Wait, are you going?" Frodo questioned, following after the wizard as he went to the door.

"I must." the wizard replied.

"But you've only just arrived!" the Halfling pointed out.

"There are things I must do," Gandalf explained.

"What things?" Frodo inquired.

"Questions that need answers," he continued, ignoring the question.

"What questions?!"

Gandalf turned to the Hobbit. "Keep it secret. Keep it safe." With that, Gandalf left with in a sweep of grey material.

Frodo looked at the off-white envelope in his hands, frowning. He just shrugged. He himself was a bit drunk, who's to say Gandalf wasn't, too? Frodo put the envelope on the hearth and went off to bed, praying in his heart that Bilbo hadn't left and this all just a bad dream.

********END********

**A/N: So, liked it? Hated it? Maybe somewhere in between? Let me know in a review! Don't forgot, I love suggestions and anything you request, I'll make sure the others in the audience know it was your idea! I'd also love it if you tell me what I can improve on so I can better please YOU! Thank you all for reading!  
**

**-Lathiel**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hey, everyone. I'm sorry about the wait - I've been completely rewriting chapters, so it's taking a lot longer than I thought it would. Plus with end of school finals and whatnot...  
But, I've decided that over the summer I'll work on the entire story. That way when school starts again I won't have to worry about writing a chapter and homework. So, sorry about no updates during the summer :/ But in the fall you'll only have a week's wait between chapters!  
Thanks for listening to me babble, enjoy the chapter!  
**

*********BEGIN*********

Frodo woke up in the morning feeling pretty awful. Not that he'd felt considerably good any of the past few mornings he woke up on. Just - today seemed especially terrible. With a groan, he threw off the white coverlet and stood, going to the basin of cold, clean water on his nightstand. After washing his face, Frodo glanced up at the looking-glass. He wasn't even surprised to see the large, bruise-colored circles under his eyes. This past week alone he'd slept for what? Seven, eight hours? Ten tops. He also noted how thin he was getting; not that he had been very large before - he had always been pretty skinny - but now he was brushing unhealthily scrawny. But for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to care. What was the point in sleeping or eating? Sure, he was tired, he was hungry, but he was _alone_, and that weighed on him more heavily than hunger or weariness.

Still, Frodo could not denying his protesting stomach much longer. He went out to the kitchen - the small part of his brain that made him take care of himself noted there was a heavy coating of dust on everything. Frodo was just pulling out a frying pan when he felt a hand touch the back on his shoulder. The lad jumped and turned quickly, whacking Sparrow Took on the arm with the frying pan. She didn't even blink; her face remained deadly serious. "We have to talk."

Frodo wasn't exactly sure how to recover from hitting someone with a large piece of metal, especially since any other person would have at least winced in pain and she didn't even look surprised, so he just muttered, "Okay?"

Sparrow pulled a chair over and, by her look, Frodo knew she wanted him to sit. Lowering himself into the chair and putting the frying pan on the table behind him, he folded his hands in his lap as the lass paced back and forth, attempting to gather her thoughts. Finally, she turned and faced him, feet slightly apart and hands clasped at the small of her back. "It's been four months." she stated stiffly.

"Four months since what?" Frodo asked.

Sparrow shook her head. "Don't play dumb; don't make this harder than it needs be." Sparrow waited until Frodo gave a little nod of acknowledgement before she continued: "It's been four months since I last saw you. We've given you your time, but we miss you, Frodo - Sam and I. Even Merry and Pippin are starting to feel the difference." Her expression softened. "We- I," she amended. "I can't stand to see you like this. You have a life, Frodo. Bilbo would want you to live it, not stay locked up in here."

"You make it sound so easy, so simple. But you don't understand, Sparrow," Frodo felt tears spring to his eyes. He wiped them away furiously with the heel of his hand. He wasn't going to cry. Not in front of Sparrow. She never wept and neither would he. "It's like losing my parents all over again." Frodo stood and trailed his hand along the wooden table, his fingers blazing an obvious trail through the heavy dust. "You know, my mother had just found out she was pregnant before she died. Somehow this is so much harder than losing the sibling I never had."

Sparrow put her hand on the lad's forearm. "It's alright to mourn, Frodo, but we can't allow ourselves to get lost in sorrow." She turned Frodo to face her. "Please, get something to eat and come outside. The apples are still in season, we could make a pie. Besides, you look like you haven't seen the sun for years." The redhead smiled slightly to show this was a joke. The expression didn't even come close to reaching her eyes. The pain she felt wouldn't let it.

Seeing this, Frodo knew he couldn't say no to Sparrow. He agreed eventually. While he made himself some toast and tea, Sparrow went to find a basket.

After finishing his breakfast, Frodo pulled on a heavy jacket. Sparrow opened the door, hooked her arm through his, and said, "See? Life's already getting better."

The afternoon proved this statement to be true: the air was a bit brisk, but still rather warm for the month of Solmath. A light dusting of powdery snow covered the Shire gently and most every tree in the orchard was laden with crisp, delicious red apples. Sparrow and he enjoyed the juicy fruits all afternoon as if it were their first time having them. Frodo could have even sworn he _laughed_ when Sparrow threw a tiny snowball at him. The sound hadn't lasted long as, with Sparrow's trajectory, most of the cold snow went down the back of his shirt and an exclamation at the cold replaced it.

Once they filled the basket, the Hobbits headed back to Bag End. They cut up the apples quickly and left them to bake, going to sit by the blazing fire, laughing and talking about everything and nothing. Frodo loved having a friend like Sparrow. Sam was great and all, but, when speaking economically, he was in a lower class, and the gardener made sure Frodo knew it. The Bagginses had always been a wealthy family, and though Frodo couldn't help that, he wished Samwise wouldn't treat him as such.

Sparrow was, however, a Took - another rather special clan of the Shire. But she was also a, uh... free spirit. As she had done for Frodo, she would give you your time; then she would come and tell you, to put it in her own words, to "suck it up." Needless to say, Sparrow often came off as a bit strong to people. Either way, Frodo loved her like a sister. He told her everything, confided even the smallest thing in her, and she never told another soul.

After the apple pie was done, they each had a slice with cream. Sparrow said goodnight to Frodo and headed off. Frodo, for the first time in the last four months, went to bed happier than he could remember.

* * *

After Sparrow's visit, Sam seemed to remember Frodo didn't bite. He would come in after working in the gardens and just ask Frodo questions, like how he was doing and whatnot. And, honestly, the lad liked it.

Life continued to go on pretty normally in the Shire in the coming month. There was still talk of Bilbo, but it was usually as a jest. Many would say to someone who was talking crazily, "Oh, you're as mad as that Bilbo Baggins."

Frodo learned to laugh this off, but it bothered him inside. His uncle had never been crazy, just inquisitive. He'd never understood why curiosity and adventures were frowned upon by the Halfling race; if being respectable meant you had to be boring, then by the Valar Frodo would never be respectable!

Frodo's thoughts wandered to the land outside the Shire, how Bilbo was and whatnot. "Hello? Is Frodo Baggins in there?" Sparrow said a bit tersely, snapping her fingers under his nose . Frodo shook himself slightly, realizing he was at the Green Dragon Inn, grabbing tankards of ale for the four Hobbits he was sitting with and himself. Sparrow smiled coldly, leaning on her elbows across the bar, fingers laced under her chin. "I know you were just trying to be nice, but you don't have to ask how my day was if you really don't give a troll's buttocks about it."

"Sorry, Sparr." he said, gathering three tankards into one hand and two in the other. "I was just thinking about Bilbo-"

"Even the dimmest of us could've guess that," the redhead interrupted, trying hard not to roll her eyes but giving him what we nowadays would call a _No dip, Sherlock_ look.

Frodo sighed. "I just hope he's alright."

"He's with the Elves, how couldn't he be?" Sparrow said, placing a comforting hand on his own. She nudged his shoulder playfully and said in a matching tone, "Now you'd best get going, the Gaffer doesn't like his ale cold."

Frodo smiled, heading back to where he was sitting, passing Merry and Pippin as they danced gleefully on a table, belting out at the top of their lungs, "_Hey ho, to the bottle I go!_  
_To heal my heart and drown my woe._  
_Rain may fall and wind may blow._  
_But there still be -_  
_many miles to go!_

_"Sweet is the sound of the pouring rain,_  
_and the stream that falls from hill to plain._  
_Better than rain or rippling brook —_" Pippin stepped forward and finished loudly, "_Is a mug of beer inside this Took!_"

Frodo laughed and applauded as best he could along with the others. Over his shoulder, he heard an older Hobbit - his voice identifying him as the Gaffer, Samwise's father - saying, "There's been some strange folk crossing the Shire. Dwarves and others of a less savory nature. War is brewing; the mountains are fair teeming with goblins." Frodo chuckled slightly at the gossip before turning to see Sam staring across the inn at the barmaid, Rosie Cotton. Sparrow, also a barmaid, tapped Rosie's shoulder and pointed behind them with her chin. Rosie turned and gave the gardener a huge smile.

"Wives' tales and children's stories you're reciting, Gaffer." another elderly Hobbit said matter-of-factly. "You're beginning to sound like that old Bilbo Baggins. Cracked, he was." he added, looking at Samwise.

The Gaffer caught sight of Frodo and said, "Young Mister Frodo, here, why, he's cracking!" The Halfling let out a hearty laugh.

"And proud of it, too!" Frodo grinned, sitting down next to Sam. "Cheers, Gaffer." He passed around the mugs of ale.

"Well it's none of our concern what goes on beyond out borders." The other Hobbit said. Turning to the young Baggins, he continued, "Keep yer nose out of trouble, and no trouble'll come to you."

Frodo gave a little smile to acknowledge and took a large gulp of his drink.

* * *

A couple of hours later, Rosie stood at the door bidding everyone farewell.

"Goodnight, lads." Rosie said to Frodo and Sam. Frodo returned the nicety politely; all Sam could do was give a shy smile. The two continued on their way, but Sam stopped when he heard Rosie giggle slightly. He turned to see a very drunk Hobbit coming up from an exaggerated bow. "Goodnight, sweet maiden of the golden ale!" he cried.

Sam turned back with a huff. "Mind who you're sweet talkin'." He muttered.

Frodo chuckled. "Don't worry, Sam." he said comfortingly. "Rosie knows an idiot when she sees one."

Sam stopped again, more immediately this time. He looked crestfallen. "Does she?"

Frodo laughed again and patted Sam's shoulder. They continued walking - mostly in silence - until they got back to Bag End. They bade one another goodnight before parting ways.

With a little sigh, Frodo opened the door. A breeze fluttered through the Hobbit hole, as he closed and locked the door behind him. The small breathe of wind continued. Frodo looked around, puzzled. A window must be open, but he could've sworn he'd closed all of them.

A hand clamped down on the Halfling's shoulder, wheeling him around to see a disheveled Gandalf standing behind him. "Is it secret? Is it safe?" he demanded sharply.

It took Frodo a moment to remember what the wizard was talking about. "Oh," he breathed as the realization hit him. The Hobbit rushed to a chest, threw it open and searched for a second, throwing out a few random little things like a book and quill, then he pulled out a small envelope. Gandalf snatched it from him and immediately turned around and threw it in the fire.

"Hey!" Frodo protested as the envelope burned away to reveal a plain gold ring. Gandalf ignored him, instead grabbing a pair of tongs and saying "Hold out your hand, Frodo." as he reached in and picked up the ring. The lad looked at him incredulously. "It's quite cool," Gandalf comforted. Frodo stretched out his hand, waiting for the burning he knew had to come when the wizard dropped the ring in his hand. But when he did, it was not searing heat that came off the small circle, but an unexpected weight. The Hobbit's hand dropped down suddenly before he adjusted to the unanticipated mass.

Gandalf turned away from him and asked in rapid fire,"What can you see? Can you see anything? Is there anything on it?"

"Nothing, there's nothing..." Frodo said with questioning in his tone. The wizard let out a sigh of relief, but it was short-lived as Frodo correct himself. "Wait, there's writing on it." he turned it about in his fingers, the letters reflecting on to his face. "It's some form of Elvish; I can't read it."

"It is the dark language of Mordor." Gandalf replied, rolling the "R" of Mordor. "Which I will not utter here."

"Mordor?" Frodo questioned, looking away from the ring. He could have sworn he heard faint voices, as if it was whispering to him.

"In the Common tongue it says 'One Ring to bring them all, One Ring to find them. One Ring to rule them all, and in the darkness bind them.'" Seeing Frodo's alarmed look, Gandalf sighed and said, "Why don't you make some tea. I will explain."

After a kettle had been boiled and the Halfling poured out two cups, Gandalf felt ready to expand on what he said earlier. He looked down pointedly at the golden ring in the middle of the table and said, "This is the One Ring forged by the Dark Lord Sauron in the fires of Mount Doom. Isildur took it from the hand of Sauron himself."

Frodo, being the smart lad he is, looked down at the harmless looking jewelry in fear and awe, muttering, "Bilbo found it. In Gollum's cave."

"Yes." Gandalf said gravelly. "For sixty years it has laid quietly in Bilbo's possession, prolonging his life, warding off old age. But no longer. Evil is stirring, Frodo, the Ring has heard its master's call."

"But He was destroyed." Frodo said, jumping to his feet in a rising panic. "Sauron was destroyed."

At its creator's name, the Ring began to whisper in the Black Speech. Both looked at it - Frodo in alarm, Gandalf with the same caution but with curiosity mixed in. Finally the wizard looked up from it. "His physical form was destroyed." Gandalf confirmed. "But Sauron's life force endures. He put so much of Himself in to the Ring that He is now tied to it. The Ring has survived, and so has the Dark Lord. His Orcs have multiplied, His fortress at Barad-Dur has been rebuilt in Mordor. Sauron needs only this Ring to cover all of Middle-Earth in a second darkness. He is seeking it - seeking it, all His thought is bent upon finding it. The Ring yearns to return to its master; they are one, the Ring and the Dark Lord. Frodo, He must never find it." Gandalf added solemnly.

Frodo snatched the Ring off the table and headed down the corridor. "All right, then we put it away. We never speak of it, we never even think of it again. No one else knows it's here." A thought struck the Halfling and he turned about slowly. "Do they?" he asked the wizard.

Gandalf hesitated before answering: "There was one other who knew Bilbo had the Ring. I looked everywhere for him, but the Enemy found the creature Gollum first. I do not know how long they tortured him, but amongst the shrieks and endless inane babble they discerned two words..." he trailed off.

Frodo knew immediately the words in question. Bilbo had told him the story countless times. "Shire. Baggins." he mumbled with dread. "But that would lead them here!" Frodo yelled this last part, thinking not of his own well being but of his friends and the other decent Hobbits in the Sire. He suddenly looked up at Gandalf and thrust the Ring towards him. "Take it, Gandalf!"

"Frodo, please..." The wizard stepped back, and for the first time Frodo could remember, he looked scared.

"Take it!" the Hobbit continued to insist.

"You cannot offer me this Ring,"

"I'm giving it to you!"

"_Don't_!" Gandalf cried. And all of a sudden, the idea of giants didn't seem so farfetched to Frodo as the wizard straightened to his full height. "Don't tempt me, Frodo. I dare not take it, even to keep it safe. You must understand, even with my desire to do good, I cannot have it: _through_ me, the Ring would wield a power too great and terrible to imagine."

"All right, then- then," Frodo stuttered, thinking of a solution. "Then we throw it away. We could bury it, or maybe toss it in the Brandywine."

"No, Frodo." Gandalf said firmly.

"But it cannot stay in the Shire!" he pleaded desperately.

"No. No, it can't."

Frodo knew what Gandalf was suggesting just by the look in his eyes. The Halfling clenched his jaw firmly and balled his hand around the Ring. "What must I do?" he asked soberly.

"You must leave, and leave quickly." Gandalf handed him a large pack as he continued, "Head for the village of Bree."

Frodo rushed to his wardrobe and started to pull out clothes and shove them in the pack. "Bree?"

"Yes," Gandalf grabbed a shirt and folded it up neatly. Frodo snatched it out of his hands, shook out the folds, and stuffed it in the bag. "Look for the inn of The Prancing Pony. The barkeeper is a good friend of mine. But leave the name of Baggins behind you, it is not safe any more."

"And what of yourself?" the Hobbit asked as he went to the kitchen and packed some food.

"I must go see the head of my order; he is both wise and powerful, he will have some counsel for me." Gandalf helped Frodo in to a cloak then smiled. "Hobbits really are amazing creature. In no time at all, you can learn everything about their ways. But even after years of friendship, they can still surprise you."

Frodo opened his mouth to respond, but a rustle game from the bushes and Gandalf pushed him to the ground roughly. The wizard headed to the window and poked his staff out into the shrubs. "Ow!" cried a familiar voice. Gandalf reached in the bush and pulled out Sam, throwing him on to the table. "Samwise Gamgee," he yelled. "Have you been eavesdropping?!"

Sam opened and closed his mouth like a fish for a few moments before he was able to choke out between scared gasps for breath. "I ain't been dropping no eaves, sir! I was just cutting the grass,"

"A little late for landscaping, isn't it, Master Gamgee." Gandalf speculated. "What did you hear?"

"Oh, uh, uhm, nothing much, and none of it I understood. Just something about a ring, and the Dark Lord, oh and the end of the world." Sam said, obviously trying to pass these words off as nonchalant but not doing the best job of it. "P-please, Mister Gandalf, sir," he added, a quiver coming to his voice. "Don't turn me in to anything... unnatural..."

"Oh?" Gandalf gave a look to Frodo, who was grinning, already able to guess what the wizard was planning.

* * *

"I don't understand." Sam muttered to Frodo the next morning as Gandalf led the two out in to the forest, holding the reins of a large, brown horse. "Is he going to punish me?"

"I _am_ punishing you, Samwise." Gandalf said, his keen ears picking up the gardener's worried words. "You shall accompany Frodo to Bree; once you've returned to the Shire, consider yourself thoroughly chastised." A small smile pricked at the corners of his mouth.

Behind them, leaves rubbed against each other noisily to betray another presence. Frodo turned about to see a red haired lass hanging upside down from a low branch, gripping on to it with her knees, her arms folded across her chest, the bag on her back sagging slightly at gravity's pull. "Well then, I hope you plan on punishing me too," Sparrow said crossly. She did a little flip off the branch and brushed her cream hued skirt to work out the wrinkles before continuing: "Because there's no way I'm letting you send these imbeciles - sorry you two, but you are; you can't help it, it's because your males - off alone to Bree."

"How'd you know-" Frodo started before Sparrow cut him off, "I was there last night, I'm just much stealthier than Samwise here." she said. Sam blushed.

Gandalf scowled almost imperceptibly. "I was going to send you on your way, Sparrow," he said irritably. The wizard had never exactly had a fondness for the redhead. She was reckless and got in to fights just for the sake of it. If it weren't for Frodo, she would always be having an argument with someone about one thing or another. "But I cannot let you run that mouth of yours around the Shire. This mission must be a secret one." Gandalf paused, the next words he was about to say grieved him. "I will allow you to come along, but only so Frodo can keep an eye on you."

Sparrow's jaw stiffened. Her hand clenched into fists. "_Run my mouth_? Listen, old man, if I didn't step in, you'd send these two off to certain death just for the 'greater good'." she snapped, putting air quotes around the two words. "They would die, someone else would find the Ring, and half the Shire would be grieving. What's greater about that? You insolent-"

Frodo hurriedly shoved his hand over her mouth. "You got your permission and I'm glad you're coming along," he hissed in her ear. "But, please, do _shut up_."

Sparrow pushed his hand off with a huff and a glare at the wizard. "For your sakes." she said to the other Hobbits through clenched teeth, her glare at Gandalf never relenting.

Gandalf nodded, just as much fire in his eyes. "Keep off the roads. Stay in the countryside." he commanded, climbing on to the broad horse. "And keep a close watch on her."

Sparrow started to make a rude gesture but a hard slap from Frodo told her she had better keep her uncouth pantomime to herself. Frodo nodded acknowledgement to the wizard, gripped his walking stick tightly, and the three set off behind Gandalf as he rode off quickly.

**######END######**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Okay, so I know I said I wasn't going to post until all of the chapters are finished (which they aren't yet) but I have a good reason for this. I realized, with the way I make their relationship, it might be better to leave Sparrow and Frodo as just really good friends rather than a couple. So if you have any thoughts or opinions on this, leave a comment and I swear by the time the next chapter is posted I'll have the rest of the story done. Thank you!**

"Are you _still_ complaining about that?" Frodo asked two days after their departure. Behind him, Sparrow jerked out of her thoughts and realized she had been muttering "Run my mouth? Why, I'll teach him one of these days..."

"Yes!" Sparrow shot backed sharply. "Because he treats me like I'm a child! Just because I'm not of Age yet doesn't mean I'm a moron. I am three months away from being thirty-three, and he acts as if I'm five!"

Samwise came up behind her and rested a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Mister Gandalf is a very important man. Men like him tend to be stressed and accidentally take it out on others."

"I'm not sure if you're trying to comfort me or make up excuses for him." Sparrow growled back. Sam's hand jumped off her shoulder. Her temper was boiling now and under such situations it was better to just let it burn off rather than reason with her. No one had ever been able to make her back down from a fight she wanted. No one but Frodo, that is. She almost always listened to him. But there was something else. It seemed like every time she looked at him, a sort of sadness filled her. Most people didn't notice this because she covered it up well - not even Frodo realized it, though he knew her well - but Sam could read people easily. The redhead always looked at Frodo like it might be the last time she would see him, or like she might have to do something horrible to him. For the past two days, since he had gotten the Ring, Sparrow's hidden depression only seemed to intensify.

"So," Frodo started, picking up a stick and drawing aimlessly in the dirt. "I suppose tomorrow we'll be on the outskirts of Farmer Maggot's land."

"I guess so," Sparrow said as she pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her chin on them. "About this time tomorrow we'll be out of the Shire completely." She chuckled softly. "Hard to think about that, eh?"

Behind her, Sam nodded as he crouched down and began to attempt to light a fire. "For most of our lives we've just been stuck exploring Hobbiton. Now we get to experience the outside world." There was a note of longing in his tone, as if he wanted nothing more than to be back home in the gardens of Bag End up to his knees in dirt.

"Hey," Frodo said, elbowing the gardener gently. "Don't sound so gloomy. We finally get to see the rest of the world; we're not cooped up in the Shire any more!"

Samwise sighed drearily. "Begging your pardon, Sir, but not all of us find the quiet life a bore."

The Ring Bearer smiled as if he expected this answer. "Maybe so, but - who knows? - we may even run in to some Elves..."

Sam's head jerked around to look at Frodo, his interest suddenly piqued. It was no secret that he'd had a fondness for Elves ever since he read about them in one of Mr. Bilbo's story books. "Do you think so?"

"Lately Elves have been coming through the Shire." Sparrow said, shocking both lads with her knowledge of the outside. "They head to the Grey Havens. They leave Middle-Earth, never to return."

Unable to think of anything else, Frodo just said, "It's amazing how quickly your mood does a full one eighty."

Sparrow scoffed. "I'm going for a walk." she huffed and stalked off.

Frodo shrugged and pulled out his pipe. "You really shouldn't worry, though, Sam." the Ring Bearer assured. "We'll be back home before next midweek." Frodo sighed. "I wish we could see more than just the back road to Bree."

"I don't." Sam contrasted, finally lighting the fire. Of course, with their luck, five seconds later the quick drizzle was all that warned them of the torrential downpour that came next. Both rushed under a tree, somewhat vainly: they were already soaking wet. Sam sighed. "I guess we'll be skipping supper tonight." The gardener sighed again, sounding thoroughly disappointed.

Frodo nodded glumly. "We might as well just go to sleep."

They curled up as comfortably as they could in the tree's roots before falling into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

Frodo woke in the morning from a gentle prod in the back. He turned to see Sparrow standing over him. "Plan on sleeping in all day, do we?" she asked with a smirk. "Sam made breakfast. We left some for you."

Sam handed the lad a frying pan filled with two sausages and a handful of blueberries after he had stood and stretched. Frodo gulped down the food greedily and the trio set on their way within the hour.

The trek was uneventful for the rest of the morning. When they stopped at lunch time, less to eat and more just to rest, Frodo couldn't help but say, "You two are so gloomy! Why don't we stop and play a game?"

Both Sam and Sparrow perked up at this. "What would you suggest, Mr. Frodo?" Sam asked.

"Oh, what about hide-and-seek?" the Ring Bearer said, slipping his hand nonchalantly into the pocket where he kept the Ring.

Sparrow's forefinger raced to her nose. Frodo got the gist and followed. Samwise sighed. "I'm it. I've never really understood the nose game."

Sparrow laughed. "There's nothing _to_ understand, just go count to twenty."

As Sam counted, Frodo and Sparrow raced off. It was easy to tell which way Frodo had gone, but not so much as a leaf cracked under Sparrow's foot.

After counting to the designated number, the gardener started to search for the other Halflings. Looking for Sparrow was a bit easier because he knew how she liked to hide. So, instead of searching on the ground, he scanned the treetops for a sight of her red hair. When he did find her, Sparrow was sitting on a branch in plain sight. "Well, you took forever." she stated, climbing out of the tree gracefully. "I wasn't trying very hard to hide. Let's go find Frodo."

With Sparrow behind him, Sam renewed his search. He understood why Sparrow would want to help; unlike the redhead, Frodo had no set way of hiding which made him more difficult to find.

After half an hour of scanning the nearby forest, both Hobbits gave up. A chuckle sounded behind them as they plopped down on the ground. Sparrow jumped to her feet, putting two fists up defensively. "Who's there?" There was another laugh behind the lass and a hand fell on her shoulder. For one of the first times Samwise had ever seen, Sparrow jumped in shock as she turned around, looking thoroughly confused and surprised.

Unable to help himself any longer, Frodo pulled the Ring off his left middle finger, his laughter ringing bright and clear as he flipped it up in to the air as you would a coin, caught it, and slipped it into his pocket. "You should have seen your face!" the Ring Bearer cried as he wiped a tear of mirth off his face.

Sparrow promptly smacked him upside the head. "You moron! This is the One Ring of the Dark Lord Sauron, the one thing that can completely destroy all life in Middle-Earth and you're using it as a toy!"

Frodo rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I'm sorry, Sparr. But the thing turns you invisible and you expect me not to use it?"

"You're an idiot." the lass huffed as she folded her arms crossly. "Putting it on turns you invisible, yes, but when you put it on _it calls to its master_." She said this last part slowly, as if talking to someone who wasn't quite so quick on the draw.

"Alright, I admit, it was stupid and ill-advised-"

"That doesn't even scratch the surface of the situation." Sparrow interrupted. "Keep that thing in your pocket, don't use it - don't even think about it. Pack up your things, I'm going to go scout around for a bit then we're heading off. We've lingered here far too long." Sparrow turned on her heel and marched off briskly.

Frodo gave a nervous chuckle to ease the tension. "Is it just me, or does Sparrow seem to get more and more angsty each day?"

"Pardon my boldness, Sir," Sam said as he lashed his frying pans back to his rucksack. "But I don't think it's quite angst. She's scared it seems and she has every reason to be."

The Ring Bearer nodded in consideration. "She's not usually this angry though."

Samwise shrugged and muttered something about stress bringing out different sides of people, but he stopped abruptly when Sparrow returned and snapped, "Oh like you would know anything about that." She hefted her knapsack on to her shoulder. "Thankfully no Nazgul are around, we should hurry though. The sooner we get to Bree, the better."

Frodo and Sam pulled their packs onto their shoulders and headed off after Sparrow.

As they followed the redhead's quick pace the scenery slowly changed from the untamed forest of the back roads to the careful, symmetrically plowed fields of Farmer Maggot's land and soon the trio was winding their way through six-foot corn stalks.

The only time they stopped was when the stalks around them began to rustle noisily. Sparrow pulled out a little eight inch knife from her belt. She scanned the area with carefully trained eyes.

"It's probably just one of Farmer Maggot's dogs." Sam said and Frodo shuddered. He never liked the farmer's dogs. Especially since one time when he was young and foolish, Maggot had called the dogs on him as a punishment for stealing mushrooms.

The words swayed Sparrow and she sheathed her knife again. Right after she took her hand off the blade she and Sam were knocked off their feet by two other Hobbits. "Sparrow?" Peregrin Took asked disbelievingly. "What are you doing all the way out here?"

"Being your pillow apparently." Sparrow shoved her little brother off her. "The real question is what are you doing with all _that_?" she asked, looking pointedly at the assorted vegetables in Pippin and Merry's hands.

"Oh, uh..." Pipping shoved the produce into Samwise's hands and commanded, "Hold this." then he looked back to the redhead and said, "I really don't know what you're talking about."

"You've been in Farmer Maggot's crops!" Sam accused, dropping the load Peregrin forced on him and Meriadoc had added to just a moment ago.

Suddenly what sounded like an entire heard of dogs started barking viciously. Above the tall corn plants a scythe could been seen; the Halfling holding it began to yell, "Get back here, dirty thieves! Once I get through this, you'll be meeting the devil!"

Frodo knew that the farmer's threats were not vain ones. He grabbed Sam's arm and began to run. The others saw the wisdom in their actions and followed. They ran through the field, corn stalks whipping them in the face as they sprinted.

"I don't know why he's so upset." Merry said, following close behind Pippin. "It's only a couple of carrots!"

"And some cabbages, and those bags of potatoes we left last week, and, and those mushrooms the week before-" Pip panted.

"Yes, Pippin," Merry cut off as Sparrow looked back at him, obviously furious. "My point is, he is clearly overreacting!"

Meriadoc was so busy trying to plead his and Pippin's innocence to Sparrow that none of them noticed as Sam and Frodo stopped abruptly at the steep edge of a gorge. All three of them ran in to the Ring Bearer and his gardener at full speed, knocking them all off the ledge.

Each gained many scraps and bruises, but no permanent damage was sustained by any of them. Each Hobbit picked themselves up with a groan after hitting the bottom. "That was fun," Merry commented sarcastically, wincing as he stood. "We should do it again next week."

"Over my dead body." said Sparrow as she rubbed her bruised ribs. "What were you two doing, stealing from Farmer Maggot? It never ends well!"

"Too true," Sam agreed sourly and pulled a broken carrot out from under his backside.

"Oh, come on, it wasn't that bad. It was just a," Merry said, pausing as he looked for a good word. "A bit of a shortcut."

"A short cut to what?" asked Sam.

Meriadoc opened his mouth to answer, but Pippin was quicker to have his say: "Mushrooms!"

Pippin, Merry, and Sam rushed over to them and began examining the fungus skeptically. Sparrow on the other hand gave a look to Frodo, who had stood silently and was staring intently into the blue. "I think we should get off the road," Frodo prompted with little weight to his words.

Sparrow was a little puzzled by the lad's actions until a breeze blew through the untamed forest carrying with it this sort of _chill_. Sparrow shivered, remembering every little thing that had ever made her sad, that had bothered her, that had depressed her; and for her life time the number of these moments was many.

"Get off the road! Quick!" Frodo repeated with more urgency and this time Sparrow was keen to head him. She grabbed the other three and followed Frodo as he ducked under a tall oak's roots.

The last of them, which was Merry, was just able to get under the roots as the sound of galloping came down the lane. The sound stopped right next to the tree. There was a heavy thud and the clinking of metal as the rider jumped off the horse. The rider took a few steps then a made a series of sniffing noises.

Sparrow already had a good idea what was above them, but still she looked up through the gnarled roots to see a figure hooded entirely in black with steel boots and gloves. Her heartbeat quickened and she went through colorful curses in her mind rapidly.

Frodo's reaction had a stark difference. Instead, the thoughts in his mind weren't his own. A voice whispered, feeling almost as if there was a person speaking directly into his ear. _Just go to it. Give me to it. Give me up. The burden will finally be eased. You will be rewarded. You will be _free_._

The word "free" echoed in the Ring Bearer's mind. Freedom sounded absolutely amazing. For months his mind had been captivated with Bilbo's disappearance, Gandalf's strange behavior, and now this Ring capable of destroying all. But if he just gave the Ring up...

Unbidden, Frodo's hand slipped towards his pants pocket where the Ring lay safely hidden. The sniffing intensified. Sam looked over at his master and could see what he was thinking. The gardener grabbed Frodo's hand, which made the other's sense of reason kick in. Frodo grabbed at the tufts of grass around his ankles to keep his hand away from the Ring, but the voice still whispered in the back of his mind, pleading with him, tempting him.

After the longest thirty seconds any of the Halflings had experienced, the cloaked rider returned to its horse and rode off further down the road.

Pippin exhaled deeply. "What was that thing?"

"A living reincarnation of your worst nightmare." Sparrow replied solemnly. She looked at Merry and Pippin pityingly. "I'm sorry but you two are a part of this now. I wish it were not so."

"And what exactly are we a part of now?" Meriadoc demanded.

Frodo's hand traveled to his pocket again. "Everything." he muttered ruefully, trying hard to keep his fingers from even coming in contact with the weapon he carried.

"Mr. Merry, we need to get to Bree," Sam said suddenly to keep the attention off his master. "But we can't use the road."

The Brandybuck pondered this for a moment before an idea struck him. "Buckleberry ferry; follow me." Merry wasted no time in jumped up and rushing through the trees and neither did the other Hobbits.

They ran for a bit, brambles catching their legs and drawing long, thin lines of scarlet blood. Merry used this time to think. What could Sparrow, Sam, and Frodo have gotten into? Worse, what kind of evil did they bring to the Shire? Finally he couldn't be left in his own wonderings. Merry stopped and so did the others. "That black rider was looking for something." he said firmly.

"It was," Frodo agreed. "But pray you don't have to know of the item it was searching for."

"I want answers, Frodo. Why can't we go home? What have you three done?"

For once, Sparrow didn't seem keen to prove her dominance and intelligence. Instead she took a step back mournfully, leaving Frodo and Sam to explain. "Merry, we really can't tell you. Please, just help us get to Bree and then you can return home." Frodo pleaded to his cousin.

Merry was skeptical, but all choice was taken away from him when the clopping of hooves rung through the forest. Sparrow finally spoke up with one single word: "Run."

And run they did. Each was too caught up in their own heavy breathing and excitement as a view of the Water was visible to notice Frodo stumble behind. _Don't run. _That voice whispered in his mind again. _Give in. All the pain will disappear_.

It was hard not to stop and willingly give the Ring up. It's voice had such a convincing tone. All the pain he'd ever felt would leave if he just rid himself of one little, worthless Ring. One little, worthless Ring that had just grown incredibly heavy in his pocket

"Come on, Mr. Frodo!" Sam yelled. All four of the other Hobbits had already climbed on the flat raft that most called the Buckleberry Ferry.

Frodo tried to rush forward, but the Ring's temptings were so, well, tempting! It would be so easy to just stop and hand it over.

"Frodo, please!" Sam called as he saw the Ring Bearer's pace slow slightly, desperation causing him to drop honorifics.

The lad began to run faster, if only for Samwise, and leaped on to the raft. Pippin made quick work of the knot tying the boat to a tree and pushed them off shore.

Sam sat as the first little ripples met the vessel, his face turning a pastel shade of green. Sparrow rubbed his back comfortingly. "Don't worry, Sam, it'll be over before you know it."

The gardener nodded but his new color did not subside.

Beside him, Frodo sighed. "Bree here we come."

**A/N: So in case you didn't read the top author's note, I think I may not make Sparrow and Frodo a couple like I did in the last version of the story. Let me know what you think!  
**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Gosh, okay, I'm sorry guys, I'm terrible at the whole do _all_ the chapters before posting thing :/ So I will apologize upfront for the long delays between chapters, but I hope you enjoy this one!**

**Disclaimer: You know I don't own LotR. End of story.**

Frodo, Merry, Pippin, Sparrow, and Sam were all soaked to their bones by the time they reached the gate of the town Men and Halflings shared: Bree. Frodo pulled his sopping cloak tighter about him, for all the real good that did, as the rain fell harder. He stepped up to the gate and knocked on it loudly.

For a few seconds, there was nothing. But then a small rectangular section opened to reveal a set of beady eyes. They looked around before closing the little peep hole, only to open another one closer to the Hobbits' eye level. "Whadda ya want?" a croaky, sour voice demanded.

"We wish to stay at the inn of The Prancing Pony." declared the Ring-Bearer.

The man scowled and closed the little hole before opening the gate and stepping out to examine the wayward travelers. "Hobbits - and five of ya!" he exclaimed, stooping slightly. "And from the Shire no less, judging by yer accents. Now what's a group of yer folk doing at Bree at such an unseemly hour?" he added skeptically.

"Our business is our own." Frodo said back roughly. Pippin stepped forward. "Puh-please, sir, we just want to get to the inn." the Took said as best he could between clattering teeth.

"Alright, alright, no need ta be rude; askin' questions is my job, see?" The man stepped aside and allowed them entrance. "But I understand yer abruptness, no one wants to be out on a night like this. Just watch out, there's strange folk wanderin' the land."

Sparrow lagged behind slightly as the other four quickly entered, probably slightly intoxicated at the idea of a real bed and a warm fire. She grabbed the gatekeeper's hand and pressed two gold coins into it. "The only Hobbits here are the residents, am I clear?" Sparrow whispered darkly.

The keeper nodded. "Clear as daylight, Miss. No outsiders 'ave been 'ere for a while."

Sparrow copied the man's gesture and hurried after her comrades. "Do any of you have any idea where it is?"

Only Merry replied. "No..." he whispered in wonder, gazing around at all the Big Folk. "They're not very graceful, are they? They kind of just toddle around like huge babies," Sam murmured.

Sparrow grinned. "Wait until you see Elves."

Sam looked at her. "How have you seen Elves?"

The redhead bit her lower lip. "Oh, uh-" Thankfully she was saved an explanation: Pippin shouted, "Look!" and pointed to a sign. On it was a white horse reared onto its hind legs, underneath, in spiraling letters, was written _The Prancing Pony. _

If Sam thought the Men outside the inn were bumbling, then Sparrow had no idea how he must've chosen to describe the drunk, foolish Men inside, who were dancing around, singing, and failing at seducing the comely barmaids.

Frodo gulped and entered the room, trying to put on a brave face for his friends. He went to the bar and climbed atop one of the many tall stools. The bartender, a very short and plump man with a red face, turned to him. "What can I do for you, Master Hobbit?" he asked in jolly tones. "We've got plenty of rooms open, even a few scaled for Halflings."

The Ring Bearer acknowledged the information with a nod. "Actually, we're looking for a friend of ours, Gandalf the Gray. Have you seen him?"

The name rung a bell in the back of the barkeep's mind. He thought about it for a moment, screwing his face up in concentration. "Oh!" he exclaimed at last. "Tall fellow? Long beard? Pointy hat?"

Frodo nodded again. The bartender shook his head. "No, Sir, I haven't seen him for six months."

Frodo's face fell. He thanked the tender numbly and went back to the others. "He hasn't been here for nearly half a year." he informed the other Halflings glumly.

Pippin frowned. "Well what do we do now?"

Sparrow rubbed her hands together excitedly, ready to use her perfected expertise. "Simple: we change strategies. Gandalf must have mentioned what he was going to do after he met us at Bree." She gave Frodo a questioning look. He sighed and shook his head.

"Oh, well he must have given some sort of hint..?"

"No," Frodo breathed. "Nothing that I can recall."

Sparrow licked her teeth. "We'll figure something out..."

"Can we get drinks?" Merry piped up and all of them nodded. He grabbed some gold out of his pocket and took Sam with him to the bar as the other three sat down at the nearest empty table.

After a couple of moments, Sam and Merry returned and passed out mugs. Sam took a seat by Frodo, Sparrow at the head, and Merry sat down next to Pippin, drawing a mug as tall as his head close to him with a greedy look.

"What's that?" Pippin asked, staring at the drink.

"This, Pippin, my partner in crime, is a pint." he said before taking a large gulp of mead.

"I'm getting one." declared the Took, pushing away from the table. "But we just got you a full cup!" Sam said. Pippin promptly ignored him and Sparrow snorted. "You should know better than to try and talk Pip out of more mead." she laughed.

Frodo tried for a little chuckle but it didn't come out quite right. He looked around the inn and had to admit, Big Folk scared him slightly.

He kept looking until he made eye contact with a ragged stranger sitting alone in the corner booth. The Ring Bearer gulped and stared down at the floor, his hand twitching.

"Is that man staring at us?" he muttered, pointing gently with his chin.

Merry just shrugged and kept drinking his ale. Sparrow twisted in her seat a bit and made her look-around look very casual, as if she were just trying to find the barkeeper. Sam, though, whipped around in his chair and started to scan through the crowd. No one - _no one_ - was allowed to even _think_ of hurting his master and friend.

Sparrow reached across the table and gave the gardener a firm whack with the back of her hand. "Stop it." she hissed. "We're trying to be inconspicuous and if you keep giving all the other patrons a murderous glare, that's not really going to happen."

"Right, right..." he muttered, not easing entirely back into his seat, still weary of the others him.

Sparrow shook her head. _Such ignorance,_ she thought. How could men really that daft and thoughtless?

Rather than an answer to her question shaking her out of thought, it was her name being called across the inn. The redhead looked up to see Pippin smiling and waving at her. He turned back to the other guests at the bar.  
"That's my sister, Sparrow. Lovely lass, isn't she? But be careful, she's just as dangerous as she is beautiful. Cross her and she'll teach you a right lesson." he bragged, puffing out his chest slightly.

A busty woman leaned across the bar, her tall stack of blonde curls wobbling dangerously. "And who's the lad next to her?" she asked in a falsely sweet voice, opening a lace fan and waving it in front of her face, her already revealing dress sliding down a bit lower. Sparrow rolled her eyes. She'd bet half the Took fortune the woman was a prostitute

"I- uh... uhm, that is-" Pippin swallowed hard, trying to politely wave away the woman's strong perfume. "He's my cousin, Fr- Frodo Baggins."

Frodo's head snapped up, his thoughts had wondered while Sparrow watched the scene at the bar, and his jaw dropped as Pippin explained how he was related to Frodo. "Pippin, no!" He jumped to his feet, desperately trying to pull his hand out of his pocket. He flushed, angry at himself. He hadn't meant to touch the Ring, it just had this soft, soothing voice that played constantly in the darkest corner of his mind. He struggled a bit more before giving up on trying to get his hand out, the Ring Bearer used the other one to grab Pippin's arm. The Took jumped at the sudden contact and accidentally pushed Frodo off. With his feet tangled underneath himself, Frodo tried to stumbled backwards, but only succeeded in tumbling to the floor. Of course, _now_ his hand decided to get out of his pocket with the Ring following closely behind.

Frodo reached up to grab the Weapon as it twirled through the air. By some luck or chance, or maybe even the Ring's own will, it fell directly onto his finger. He vanished from sight instantly.

Though Frodo knew this was the Ring's ability, it still scared the daylight out of him when the world went dark and shadowy, especially since it was much darker than the last time he'd put the Ring on to play hide n' seek.

It took all his effort to not just curl up in a ball and hide until this all went away. Instead he looked around, hearing that voice echo in the distant. It started to come closer, to offer freedom, peace, liberty - it offered these asking for the most simple thing: abandon the Ring right there.

Frodo fought to get the Ring off, but it seemed to have tightened around his finger.

Sparrow, still in the seen world, gasped loudly. Deep inside, she knew Frodo was still there, just invisible. But part of her refused to listen to reason. It screamed in anguish inside of her. She couldn't lose another best friend, she couldn't! The last one had been too hard, too soon, and she was a hundred times closer to Frodo than she had been to the other. The only bit of comfort this portion of her gained was at least this death was not on the battle field as the last one had been.

After the longest five seconds she could remember experiencing, Frodo appeared on the floor again, gasping.

Immediately everything kicked back into its proper place and the lass realized they had created quite a scene. She mentally swore and started calculating. If she just let events continue as they were going, Frodo would probably be accused of sorcery. And, while Gandalf and them were great and all, people, especially Men, had begun to fear magic. Obviously that was not an option.

Finally it occurred to her. Sparrow plastered a huge grin on her face and rushed over to Frodo. "I told you you're an amazing magician!" she exclaimed, trying not to sound as fake as she felt. Yes, sorcery was hated, but magicians were just illusionists, court fools, nothing more.

The people around did not seem to be buying into her trick though. Sparrow cursed again and gritted her teeth before leaning down and placing a firm kiss on Frodo's lips, pinching him hard when he tried to push her off.

One person began to clap and the others followed. Sparrow pulled away and whispered in his ear, "You so owe me for this." She grabbed his hand and helped him up, only for both of them to be picked up by the back of their collars and carried briskly to an upstairs room.

The stranger slammed the door behind them and began to extinguish candles. "If hiding was your plan, you did a very poor job of it." he said gruffly.

"It's somewhat hard to do when you're surrounded by foolish males." Sparrow snapped back. "And speaking of, would you like to tell us who _you_ are before there's trouble?"

"You're the one Gandalf mentioned," he said absently, pulling back his hood to reveal a weathered face framed by long, unruly brown hair. He looked pointedly at Frodo. "What you carry is no trinket, yet you treat it as such."

"I doubt you know anything of what I carry." the Ring Bearer shot back. Sparrow hit her palm to her forehead. _Idiot_.

"What you carry is a weapon powerful enough to wipe all life off of Arda." the stranger said as he sat on a chair and pulled out a long wooden pipe.

Frodo narrowed his eyes. "Alright, so you know something of it." Sparrow grabbed his shoulder, bringing her mouth close to the lad's ear. "You practically just handed him the Ring on a silver platter!" she hissed and shoved Frodo back roughly as she pulled out her knife from a little pocket sewn into the side of her bodice."How do we know you're not working with the the Enemy?" the redhead snarled, brandishing the blade.

The stranger raised his eyebrows. Judging by the way she stood and held the weapon, the Halfling knew how to use the blade if it was necessary. Interesting. Gandalf had always told him Hobbits were peace loving creatures. "And who is the real enemy here?" he said smoothly.

"Don't pull that philosopher dung on me." Sparrow growled in a low voice. "I'll gut you if you annoy me."

The man shifted, resting the side of his right ankle on his left knee and putting the end of his pipe in the corner of his mouth. "I have already mentioned that I speak with Gandalf; do you really believe he would tolerate one who's allegiance lies with Sauron?"

Curiously enough, the man observed the lass shift her weight from foot to foot nervously, clearing her throat as she sheathed her knife. "I will allow you the benefit of the doubt, but I will not hesitate if I find out your words are false."

The stranger nodded, expecting no less, and took a puff on his pipe.

"If we are giving you the supposed advantage," Frodo began, eyeing Sparrow curiously. She was a proud person, nerves were not something she showed often. "Will you at least give us something to address you by?"

Frodo had barely said those last words when the door flew open. Sam stood there, his fists raised, Merry and Pippin were behind him, the Brandybuck holding an overturned bar stool and the Took with a steel candlestick.

"Leave 'em alone, filthy!" Samwise growled.

The man cocked his head to the side. "I am causing your friends no harm and they are free to leave when they wish."

"It didn't feel that way when you were throwing us around." Sparrow grumbled.

He exhaled deeply. "MY apologies; that was unnecessarily rough of me." - Sparrow gave a terse nod, her eyes still hard as stone - "The people here know me as Strider."

Suddenly Sparrow's jaw dropped. "You're one of the Rangers, aren't you?"

Strider raised his eyebrows, obviously interested in the lass' knowledge. "Yes I am."

The redhead's entire face lit up. "Oh, it sounds like such a wondrous life. No ties, no bonds holding you back, no loved ones worrying for you. Just you. You and the open country, free to explore as you wish."

"You live a life of comfort, M'lady," Strider stated simply, moving his leg to rest his elbows on his knees. "You have no friends as a Ranger, not even the other Rangers come in much contact with you. Wandering the open land is quite dangerous, especially during these times when goblins overflow from the Misty Mountains. And you must hunt your own food. If your bow snaps, then you must hope you are good at bartering, because you will always have little gold. All in all, it is not a luxurious life." He leaned back in his seat.

"You make it sound as if most of those are new to me, but-" Sparrow took her bottom lip between her teeth and sucked on it, willing herself not to say more.

Suddenly Strider stood, unhooked the sword that hung on his belt and dropped it to the floor with a loud clatter. The lads, who had huddled together to speak in hushed voices, jumped and turned around, staring at the Ranger with wide eyes.

"I will not hurt you." he said soothingly. "I am a friend of Gandalf the Grey, who has asked me to escort you while he is unavailable to."

"Why can't he? Where are you going to take us?" Frodo demanded.

"I cannot answer why he is not here, but I have been asked to lead you to Rivendell, city of the Elves."

**########END########**

**A/N: I hope you enjoyed! Sorry for the length though, I couldn't figure out what else to put in without stopping at a bad spot :P Anywho, I'm still a little on the fence about Frodo/Sparrow, but that won't come in until later chapters. Enjoy your summer, mates!**

**-Lathiel**


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